Deny Me, Lie to Me
by Ethine
Summary: Originally posted on Ao3. Levi is 'L', the frontman for the band 'No Name', with bandmates Hange and Miche. He manages to get himself into trouble on a screwed up night, and ends up needing a lawyer. Enter Eren Jaeger, celebrity lawyer with famous (conservative) parents, and an actress for a girlfriend. Levi wants him, but the only problem? Eren's straight! Or is he?
1. Roadhead Gone Wrong

**_A/N:_**

 _It's been a while since I posted on here. I've mainly been focusing on my Ao3 account (with sporadic posts at best there as well), and I thought, I might as well post this particular story here as well. We're only two chapters deep thus far, but I hope you'll enjoy reading it. It will be convoluted, fucked up, and hopefully a hilarious journey for you readers. Without further ado, here is the first installment. Enjoy!_

* * *

 ** _Present Day_**

 _"And now, we bring to you the single that's been heating up the airwaves all week since it's release,—_ _"_ the radio shut off abruptly at the click of a button before the DJ could continue their statement, or even think of playing the dreaded song, leaving the room in a heavy silence.

Ultramarine irises filled with a rage-fueled fire glared hatefully at the little stereo, as if daring it to spontaneously combust and take Eren's misery with it. He had never detested the radio before _he_ happened; actually, he used to love having it on in the background. Before _him,_ the youthful lawyer would dutifully fulfill his work, humming along to whatever new songs hit the airwaves. Now, though, Eren couldn't listen to a single fucking station without this one fucking song playing nearly every hour. It wasn't a bad song—it was the exact opposite—but it boiled down to the fact that the song was blatantly about himself that he couldn't even bring himself to listen to it. It made him seethe with unfettered fury.

Who the fuck did he think he was, composing a song about his little tryst with Eren fucking Jaeger, high-profile celebrity lawyer engaged to the actress Annie Leonhart and perfectly _straight_ , fuck you very much, without getting his permission? It was fucking outrageous. Sure, it didn't mention him by name, or profession, or anything even mildly incriminating, and the only two that knew the song was about a certain teal-eyed lawyer were the singer and Eren himself, but there was something so... so _disturbing_ about having his lapse in judgment blasted on the radio, on the lips of every teen girl, making waves on fucking television, out there for everyone to see. He felt exposed, raw, angry.

Everyone in the fucking states knew who Eren Jaeger was, even before he had ever snagged the precious gem that was Annie to sit pretty on his arm; he was famous in his own right. Son of renowned doctor Grisha and beloved Cellist Carla Jaeger, Eren had been in the spotlight since before he could even remember. The world watched as he excelled in his classes, cheered as he passed his bar exam with flying colors, and became the strapping young lawyer that he was today. He had never been a disappointment; his conservative parents had urged him to become a lawyer, and so he had, because he only wanted to please them and make them proud. He was very well off, having made his name as a celebrity lawyer as soon as he could take his first case, and his fame only grew when he began offering his services for free to those in need that lacked the funds to hire a lawyer. Eren wasn't just some high-profile jackass getting famous and rich people off of well-deserved charges, he was a lawyer for the people. And the people adored him for his donations and charitable actions to those less fortunate.

Everything in his life that had been built by his parents, and then by himself, had been perfect. It was all nicely wrapped up, neatly organized, and well cared for—until _he_ came in, shook up the contents and smashed it, before walking back out like a storm, leaving devastation in his wake. Eren shook those thoughts from his head roughly, shoving it all into a box in the back of his mind. His life was still perfect, as far as he was concerned. The only thing that reminded him of his lapse in behavior and idiotic judgment was that fucking song that he couldn't seem to escape from.

No matter, he just wouldn't listen to the radio anymore. He would bring earbuds with him everywhere, to drown out the voices singing along, and really, wouldn't it be healthier for his mind to cut back on television, as well? He had been indulging a little too much recently, in his opinion.

 _"Mr. Jaeger, you have a call waiting,"_ the cheerful voice of his receptionist over the intercom dragged him back to reality, and the ever-present mask of professionalism locked back into place.

"Send it to line one," he responded smoothly, banishing all thoughts of that man from his mind.

* * *

Levi sat in his dimly lit hotel room, leaning heavily back on the luxurious loveseat, a glass of whiskey clutched by the brim with the fingertips of one hand, whilst the other flicked cigarette ash over the back of the seat. One of his legs was kicked up on the cushion, the other braced on the ground, and Petra lay overtop him, head pillowed against his chest. She was breathing softly, slowly, having passed out from just a little too much alcohol, and Levi was, well... brooding.

It wasn't odd for the 35 year old man to be caught up in his thoughts with a dark expression on his face, but it had been happening with an alarming frequency as of late. All because of some bright eyed brat. He heaved a sigh and tossed back the last of his whiskey before letting the glass fall to the carpeted floor, forgotten. A drag off his cigarette inflating his lungs displaced the strawberry blonde's head slightly, and she hummed in her sleep, curling up a little closer to his torso. Smoke curled up from his parted lips, forming meaningless shapes in the air, and blank slate eyes followed their lazy trail as his mind wandered.

Everything in his life culminating up into this shitstorm of a fucking existence, could all be pinpointed to one fucking simple mistake. Well, a goddamn amalgamation of mistakes careening off a fucking cliff, but he digresses. Certainly, there could have been different paths that he could have taken that would have led to a different endgame, but if this one circumstance hadn't have happened, this entire fucking branch would have been cut like a diseased limb. But for some reason, as shitty as everything was, he couldn't bring himself to regret the roads he took. He couldn't regret _him._ And certainly, it hadn't been all bad.

For example, his band's fame was skyrocketing to heights he'd never even dreamed they'd reach for at least another five years of nose to the fucking grindstone, all thanks to a song he had composed in a fit of wrath and despair. It had come out much more upbeat thanks to Hange's fucking perfect arrangements, even if the lyrics were on the depressing side. He had mindblowing sex, felt things he had never experienced before, and had a fucking blast while on the goddamned rollercoaster ride that was Eren Jaeger. So he'd crashed and burned, and everything was in the shitter, and it fucking blew donkey dick. He'd get over it. Bright Eyes didn't _have_ to be different. All lays with pretty eyes were just one and the fucking same, he told himself repeatedly.

Levi was the fucking frontman for No Name, for Christ's sake. He could have his pick of the litter if he damn well chose. The band consisted of Hange, Miche, and himself, but their identities were kept a complete and utter secret from the public. Known as H, M, and L respectively—Hange's shit idea, but no one else had any better ones—the three of them had formed the band on a drunken whim in college, and hadn't expected it to get as far as it had. They worked hard, though, and earned their spot on the charts with blood, sweat, and tears. No Name was on the lips of teenagers everywhere; hell, even adults seemed to go crazy for their mysterious shtick, and their popularity rose so fast that Levi got whiplash. So, really, if he felt the need to get some fucking pussy or dick, all he had to do was give the word, and panties would drop faster than someone dropped a fucking hot potato (fuck off, he was shit at metaphors, okay?). He just... wasn't horny right now, that was all. The fact that he'd brought Petra back to the hotel with the intention of fucking, only to end up drinking the entire mini-bar instead, was a testament to that fact. His dick wasn't broken, fuck you very much. He didn't suffer from ED, either. His libido was just... lax, currently. From work-related stress and lack of sleep. Obviously.

His cigarette had long since snuffed out by the time he brought it back to his lips, and he made an irritated noise in the back of his throat. He didn't have another one near him; his pack was all the way across the fucking room, and Petra was dead to the fucking world on top of him, making escape futile. So he closed his eyes wearily, leaning his head back on the loveseat, and once again began to contemplate the start of it all...

* * *

 ** _1 and a Half Years Ago_**

 _What the FUCK, Levi!"_ Hange screeched through the shitty payphone receiver, and the short, scowling man winced, yanking it harshly away from his ear. _"What the fuck do you mean by 'I'm in jail, come bail me out?!' Is it April 1st?"_

Levi frowned deeply, his brows furrowing as he brought the disgusting phone back as close to his person as he was willing to without it touching his skin. "First, shut the fuck up, you shity fucking banshee. I'm not old enough to go deaf yet. Secondly, why the absolute shitting _fuck_ would I joke about this? At 3 in the goddamned morning? And last I fucking checked, dumbass, it's fucking Autumn. So will you just come fucking get me already? I'm at Trost Police Department."

 _"Oh my god, okay. I'm getting in the car right now."_ Levi heard the sound of her car door slamming, and he leaned against the wall as she took a deep breath and released a harsh sigh. _"This is so not how I expected to start my fucking day,"_ Hange muttered, starting her car and peeling out of the driveway. _"What even happened?"_

"That can wait, just hurry up. And do me another favor, and don't even breathe a word of this to Eyebrows," he growled threateningly. He hadn't called their manager for a fucking reason. Erwin didn't need to know about this.

 _"Erwin's going to kill you,"_ Hange singsonged into the receiver, her voice staticky, before she went deathly silent. _"...he's going to kill me too, isn't he?"_

Levi snorted unattractively, the corner of his lips pulling back into a sneer. "You don't fucking say. You're my accomplice now, bitch." Grey eyes studied well-manicured nails, inspecting for any dirt beneath the free edges.

 _"Shit,"_ the woman whined, still seeming to possess that demented cheery tone in her voice. Fucking psycho. _"You owe me big time, shortstack."_

"Tch." He hung up the phone without dignifying her with a response. The officer that had escorted him to the phone led him back to his cell, and shut the door behind him. It clanged loudly, the sound echoing through the hall, and while he waited for her to arrive, Levi leaned against the wall. He grimaced at the "bed" in the cell, refusing to touch it even though he was dead on his feet and feeling a little dizzy. Who knew how many people had put their disgusting bodies on that mattress. Clean sheets didn't mean shit to the germs underneath; his skin crawled at the thought, and he could feel the urge to scald his skin and scrub it raw. Shitty glasses couldn't bail him out fast enough for his tastes.

After what felt like years dragging by, his officer came back and unlocked the cell, gesturing him out. "Your bail was paid; you're free to go."

"Fucking finally," Levi groused, pushing his hair out of his eyes as he strode forward, shoulders back and head held high. Once he made it out into the main office, Hange stood up from a shitty plastic chair and practically mowed him down. She leeched onto him tightly and picked him up off of his feet.

"My precious little grumpy," she screeched into his ear, and he winced and struggled in her grasp, trying to free himself. "I'm so happy to see you safe and sound and all in one piece!"

"Jesus fucking Christ, shitstain, put me the fuck down and get me out of here!" He smacked her on the back of the head, eye twitching at the rat's nest that she called hair. IT hung down around her shoulders, not pulled up for once, and mussed from tossing and turning in bed.

Completely disregarding his first command, the exciteable woman spun around and promptly carried him out of the police station and into the parking lot. Levi cursed and fought the entire way, hissing insults at his bandmate. She deposited him into the car, shutting the passenger door, before heading around and climbing into the driver's seat. Hange started the car, backing out of the parking spot, and as quickly as legally possible, sped out of the lot and onto the road.

"So," she started conversationally, her tired eyes flicking over to regard the short man's profile. Levi was currently leaning against the car door, his eyes even more lidded than normally, and he looked exhausted. He merely grunted for her to continue, his gaze lazily trailing over to her as she focused back on the road. "Care to tell me what crime I'm an accessory to? Seeing as how I'm dead no matter what now." The last statement was breathed out, spoken more to herself than to her passenger.

Levi scowled deeply, his arms crossing over his chest, and he did the same with his legs, settling them into his seat. "Look, it's not that bad, okay? So don't shit your pants or get your panties in a twist."

"Levi Ackerman," she stressed his name, her voice taking on a hard, serious edge. "I will call Erwin _right now_ —"

 _"All fucking right,"_ he bit out, cutting her off. "Don't get Bushybrows involved, fuck. I'm going to tell you." He huffed in annoyance, blowing air up to displace the strands of hair in his face. "I was out, at a club. And I had been drinking, but not heavily. I was only buzzed." Hange opened her mouth, ready to interrupt, but Levi shot her a mutinous glare, daring her to interrup him; she wisely took the warning to heart and slammed her mouth shut so fast that her teeth clacked together audibly.

"So I was buzzed, and I was going to take some guy back to a hotel with me. I didn't want to take a cab, didn't need one, so we took my car. I was driving perfectly fine, you know me Shitty glasses, so don't start lecturing, and this guy pulls out a little fucking baggy of coke."

"What the _fuck,_ Levi!?" Hange shrieked, nearly swerving into the oncoming traffic lane. "Don't tell me—"

"Fuck off and listen, bitch!" After she got a steady hold on the wheel, Levi rolled his eyes and brought his voice back to its normal apathetic tone. "So, the coke. Of course I'm like, _'what the fuck, man, I don't do drugs, get that shit out of my face,'_ and he tells _me_ that he doesn't give a shit, that he's perfectly fine getting high alone, it'll just make the sex better for him. I'm about ready to kick this fuck out of my car if he doesn't put that shit away, but then he just fucking grabs my crotch out of nowhere. I almost veered off the fucking road I was shocked at the sheer size of this man's nuts. He clearly needs a goddamn wheelbarrow to haul those puppies around. Anyway, obviously, I demand an answer to the perfectly reasonable question of _'what the actual fuck do you think you're doing you absolute mouth breathing waste of space'_." Levi takes a deep breath, and exhales through his nose, getting more comfortable, before turning his head to fully face Hange.

The woman is completely absorbed in his little tale, and it looks like she's having a hard time trying to decide what deserves the most attention: him or the road. Luckily for the both of them, she turns into the apartment complex and parks the car, leaving it running as she turns bodily towards him and raises her brows expectantly, impatience written on her face. She gesticulates wildly for him to continue, before crossing her own legs in her seat and leaning her elbows on them.

"And this fucking guy, you know what he says to me, shitty glasses? He says, and I fucking quote, _'I'm just gonna do a line off your cock, babe.'_ And then has the audacity to try and bribe me with sloppy roadhead." Hange chokes on a laugh, the sound gurgling and dying in her throat as she waits, a hand pressed over her lips. "To which, I vehemently refuse. At this point, I'm swerving on the road, trying to get shit for brains the fuck away from me, and then all of the sudden, I'm hearing sirens and seeing their little flashing lights. I know I'm fucked, so I pull over. I contemplated just shoving titanium nuts from my car and speeding off. His sac would weigh him down and I'd make a flawless getaway."

"Holy _shit_ , Levi," Hange wheezes, her face a splotchy red as she doubles over on herself, still trying to suppress her laughter until the end, and her whole torso shakes from the exertion.

Levi keeps a straight face, his expression bleeding boredom as he raises a singular brow. He gives a little half-shrug, his head cocking to the side as he watches with amusement in slate irises. He continues on conversationally, as if just discussing the weather. "You're fucking telling me. So the officer is a complete shitsnack. He arrests us both, after forcibly grabbing me and yanking me from the car. Like, I didn't fucking do anything except roll my goddamn window down and greet the fuck. He _pulled me through the fucking window_ , Hange."

"Bullshit!" She squeals, leaning towards Levi with wide eyes. "There's no way a cop would do that." She can hardly get her words out, still shaking with repressed laughter. Levi's lips twitch, fighting off a smirk that threatens to spread, just knowing that Hange's close to her breaking point. He leans forwards slightly, lowering his voice conspiratorially.

"Apparently the protocol changes when they see a dick out and a bag of coke about to be poured all over it like its a fucking donut in the process of getting powdered," Levi deadpans, his face void of any emotion. Hange finally breaks and starts cackling like a hyena, smacking her hand against her leg loudly. It draws that shit-eating smirk to Levi's lips, his eyes lighting up at making his best friend laugh at his shitty predicament. "Once we get to the station, they test me. Obviously I'm intoxicated— _barely,_ mind you—so I get slapped with a DWI and fucking _possession._ Even after I explained that the coke's not fucking mine. Even though it was in dick-for-brain's grimy hand. Oh, and let's not forget indecent exposure. They drug tested me, questioned me until they were blue in the face, and then they finally posted my bail and let me get my damn phone call. You know the rest."

Hange had finally stopped laughing, and she drew slow breaths to try and maintain calm, processing all of his words. It takes a few minutes, and her ribs fucking _kill_ , but she's finally got her laughter under control. Suddenly, she looks stricken, and grips onto his hands tightly, squeezing the circulation out of them. "Levi, you're so fucked. Erwin is going to go to prison for murder, and Miche and I can't do this band thing without you or him. What the fuck are we gonna do!?"

"You're fucked too, partner-in-crime. You don't tell him about this, and neither do I. Lucky for me, the public doesn't know L's real identity, so this can't fuck with No Name's or L's images. I just have to get the charges dropped, and _then_ we can tell Eyebrows. He can't kill us if there's no more situation. That'd just be a waste of the talent."

She's nodding along, humming in agreement, before she gasps and leans into his personal space. "I've got an idea! A lawyer! Lawyers know what to do. We can hire one of those to get my little grumpy, and by association, me, out of trouble and away from Bushybrows' evil clutches. I'm a genius!"

"Yeah, but Erwin has a connection to, what, fucking, _all_ of them. It would get back to him before we could even say 'fucked sideways five ways to Sunday with a rusty fucking pole'." Levi sighed, pinching his eyes closed. This was stress that he _so_ did not fucking need. He made a silent vow to himself to never pick up another drunk pretty boy from a seedy bar ever again. Or at least, he'd search their pockets to make damn sure they weren't carrying.

Hange makes a noise of distress, before her mouth falls open in a gasp. "Waitwait _wait._ You remember that kid? The one that's the son of the famous doctor whatshisfuck and that cellist whozzit? Eyebrows hasn't made connections with him yet, although he's mentioned wanting to."

"That could work... if we can get to him before Shitbrows can." Grumbling, the man contemplated her words. "He any good?"

"There's a couple ways to find out. One:" his bandmate held up her index finger for emphasis. "Research the fuck outta him. And two: a consultation. I know those aren't free, but it's a good place to start."

"It's not like I have a fucking choice in the matter. Let's get inside, Hange. I'm tired, and we've got a fuck ton of shit to do tomorrow. And that's not even including our workload. Fucking Erwin. Someone get him a whip; the man's a damn slave driver."

Nodding her agreement, the two climbed out of the car and headed into their apartment, ready to collapse into their individual beds and sleep for eternity. The night had held far too much excitement, and Levi wasn't sure how much more his heart could take.


	2. Can I Bone My Lawyer?

_**A/N:**_

 _And now, chapter two. These chapters should remain pretty short-medium in length. I'm doing this out of fun, rather than focusing on word count (something I struggle with and feel bad if it's not long enough), but I genuinely love this idea, and I want to have fun while I do it. Also, I'm feeding my need for No Name. Singer Levi is unf. Enough chatter, enjoy this chapter! Don't forget to leave me comments! I love them._

* * *

The sound of an alarm trilling set his nerves on edge, and with as long-suffering groan, Levi buried his head deeper into his pillows, burrowing into his comforter. A pale hand appeared from beneath the blanket, clumsily reaching over to the nightstand and blindly fumbling over the surface. An empty glass got knocked onto the floor, and his palm slapped the wood, a frustrated whine rising from the lump of bedding. Blessedly, his hand found the alarm clock, and smashed down heavily on the button to turn it off. Sweet, sweet silence filled his room, and he sighed peacefully, the furrow in his brow relaxing slightly.

His head was throbbing with a headache, not so much from a hangover, and more so because of the fact that he hadn't gotten enough sleep. Being a famous musician was not all it was cracked up to be. Everyone thought it was some glamorous life, where bands spent all of their time fucking off, getting high, getting laid. Sure, those things did happen, but they still had to get up and actually work during the day. Plus, tours were fucking brutal. He was slowly being lulled back into sleep by the gentle quiet of his room, but of course with his shitty luck, that didn't last.

The bedroom door flew open and smacked loudly into the wall, and only a few seconds later, his lungs let out a sharp exhale of air as he was crashed into. He was tortuously being buried alive beneath his blankets and pillows, and another entire fucking body that outsized and nearly outweighed him.

"Oh no, little grumpy, if I have to suffer from lack of sleep, so do you," Hange trilled loudly, drawing an angry hiss from the man beneath her.

Levi struggled, trying to free himself from the extra weight and his own bedding, his head finally popping out to shoot her a murderous glare. "Get the _fuck_ off me, Shitty glasses!"

Instead of dutifully following his command, the woman took one look at his face and ruffled hair, and burst into pealing laughter, her own head flying back. "Oh my fucking god, you look so adorable! Like a little angry kitten all swaddled up!" She reached her hands forward and squished his cheeks, earning a swift kick to the hip once he freed his leg.

He turned his head in her hands and viciously snapped his jaws shut, attempting to bite his bandmate with lack of boundaries. Finally, she conceded, pulling back and slipping down to sit on the mattress. Grumbling expletives, he slowly sat up and ran a hand down his face.

"You know what? Fuck this, I'm going back to jail. I'll plead guilty to all charges. Anything is better than getting up at the ass crack of dawn and having to deal with _you_ ," he seethed, lips pulling back to bare his teeth aggressively as he gave her a chilling side-eye.

"You love me, munchkin, don't lie!" Hange exclaimed with a mischievous grin, leaning forward to place a sloppy wet kiss on his cheek. A disgusted shudder rippled through his body, and he furiously scrubbed at his cheek, huffing.

"I actually hate you," he muttered, stretching his body out languidly. "Make tea while I shower, and then we'll take a look at this lawyer kid."

Hange sang out an affirmative, and Levi rolled out of his bed, padding into his en suite bathroom. There was no way in hell he would have moved into a place where he had to share a bathroom with his bandmate; she was a natural disaster in human form. He rarely ever stepped foot in her room, lest he get swallowed up in the actual landfill of dirty clothes and god knows what else. Snagging a towel out of the linen closet, he threw it up on a hook before he stripped down. Levi wrinkled his nose and looked down at the clothes at his feet; they were the ones from the night before, because he'd been far too exhausted to take a shower, let alone change into something clean. It was a decision he certainly regretted, seeing as now he had to strip his bed and replace the sheets.

Hot water cascaded down over his tired body, and he released a drawn-out sigh of bliss. This was exactly what he needed. Levi took his time, thoroughly cleansing every inch of his skin until he was satisfied that all evidence of last night was gone from his skin. His hair was shampooed twice, blunt nails raking over his scalp, washing all the suds away. Finishing his shower, he turned the faucet off and climbed out onto a bath rug. He dried quickly with the fluffy towel, using the material to soak up the clinging to his hair until it was only slightly damp. With a satisfied once-over in the mirror, he turned and exited the bathroom, walking into his room.

He threw on boxers, black sweatpants, and a loose grey cashmere sweater that was two sizes too big, ran a comb through his inky locks, and rubbed a hand over the back of his undercut to check the length. It was edging on getting a little too long; he'd have to make Hange shave it later. With that added to his mental to-do list, he padded out into the den, fingers massaging into the crook of his neck. The intermingling scents of tea and coffee tickled his nose, and he followed it into the kitchen. Hange was sitting with one leg crossed on top of the counter, the other dangling down and kicking absentmindedly. Her back was hunched forward, glasses perched high on the bridge of her nose, and she stared intently at the screen of the computer she had resting on her lap. She clutched her coffee mug in one hand, taking a long drink from it, her gaze never leaving the laptop.

"Matcha," the woman stated in lieu of a greeting, waving her mug precariously in the direction of his tea.

Levi hummed in response, perking up at the prospect of delicious matcha. "Good choice," he complimented, moving along the countertop to wear his tea sat brewing. He poured himself a generous cup, bringing it up to his nose to inhale the rich scent. Blowing daintily on the hot liquid, he took a small sip, rolling it in his mouth to relish in the flavor before swallowing. "Fuck. I thought we were out of this."

Hange made a noncommittal noise in the back of her throat. "Miche brought it over last night. Said the air smelt like you needed it."

"He always knows; crazy bastard." His bandmate murmured her agreement, before finally looking up from her laptop screen to regard her smaller counterpart.

Turning the computer around to face Levi, she pointed at an image on the screen. "This is our lawyer. His name is Eren Jaeger."

Levi took a step closer, leaning forward to study the picture. Eren was wearing a smart suit with a black tie, standing tall, smiling rakishly straight at the camera. His smile was crooked, though if it was naturally so or done on purpose to add to his attractiveness, he couldn't tell. His rich soil colored locks were kept professionally short, but it was tousled and fell artfully into his face. Even his skin was gorgeous, that perfect coffee-with-cream tone, all warmth and sun-kissed. But it was his eyes that drew Levi's attention the most; they were startling, stunning, bright, and absolutely one of a kind.

"The kid has heterochromia," Levi announced suddenly. One of the irises was the color of the ocean; all raging blues and swirling greens, fighting for dominance, and creating a breathtaking teal. The other eye stood in a stark contrast of molten gold, the amber iris flecked with spots of viridian. "Not bad," he muttered to himself, but Hange heard his words, and grinned wickedly.

"He's quite the looker, isn't he? I can't believe those are his real eyes!" She squealed, spinning the computer on her lap and typing away. She pulled up several browsers full of articles before passing it off to her bandmate, swaying back and forth in her excitement. "He's the full package: smart, charitable, and really fucking good at his job. Those are all his achievements."

Levi browsed, his brow furrowed as he muttered out bits of information. "...celebrity lawyer... never lost a case... offers free assistance to those less fortunate... Man, who is this kid?"

"Ah!" Hange leaned forward, clicking onto another browser from behind the laptop. She peeked over the top to be able to see what she was doing, scrolling down until she found what she was looking for. "These are his parents; they should look familiar."

Levi's eyes widened and he pushed his face even closer to the screen. "Holy fuck, he's Grisha Jaeger's son? That fucker's a renowned surgeon. Apparently philanthropy runs in their fucking family. He's opened like, 4 different charities."

"Come on, Levi, I thought you were smarter than that," Hange chastised, snickering behind her hand. "How many fucking people do you think have that last name?"

"Look I knew it was familiar, don't get on my case, shitty glasses. I just didn't know he was _that_ Jaeger," he grumbled, giving her a dirty look. He turned his attention back to the computer and flicked to another site. "He's got pretty fucking flawless reviews..."

"I think he's perfect! He'll get your ass off so fast!" His bandmate waggled her eyebrows suggestively, a filthy smile stretching her lips.

"You ever get cold in that gutter you inhabit, four eyes?" Levi deadpanned with a roll of his eyes.

"Nah, there's plenty of warm bodies in here to keep me company."

"Gross." Levi's phone ended their banter, and he picked up the cell to read the caller ID. He mouthed _'Eyebrows'_ at Hange, before hitting the answer button and bring it to his ear. "What."

 _"Why, hello to you too, Levi. I'm great, thank you for asking,"_ Erwin said, bemusement coloring his tone.

Levi gave a long-suffering sigh and rolled his eyes. "Get to the point, Bushy brows. I'm busy."

A soft chuckle came over the receiver, before the man's voice evened out, and he became all business. _"We need you and Hange in the studio in thirty minutes. In case you've forgotten, No Name has an album to record."_

"I fucking _know_ , numbnuts, I wrote the damn thing. We'll be there shortly, so piss off." The scowl on his face deepened, and he shot a look over at Hange. He gestured to the cellphone after he captured her attention, then pointed at her, and mouthed a quick _'call Eren'_. She nodded quickly in confirmation, slipping off of the counter and heading off toward her bedroom. Levi heard the soft _click_ of the door shutting behind her.

 _"—are you even listening to me?"_ Erwin asked, disbelief playing on his tongue as the shorter man tuned back in.

"Quite frankly, I was not. You can talk at me all you fucking want when we get to the studio, Shitbrows, but I currently don't have the brain capacity to give enough of a shit to absorb your words. If you'll excuse me," and without even giving his manager a chance to respond, Levi ended the call, slipping his phone into his back pocket.

A few moments later, Hange came bounding out of her room, and after making sure that her roommate was no longer on the phone, she squealed in excitement and threw her arms around him.

"You're all set, sugarbean! You've got a consultation tomorrow during our lunch break. His receptionist was just lovely!" She squeezed him in a bear hug, and Levi groaned, pushing at her with all of his strength.

"Okay! Jesus fuck, get off of me!" Finally, he shoved her away, and he took a deep breath, raking a hand through his hair. "Fucking hell, you'll kill me before Erwin ever does."

Hange merely pinched his cheeks, before running for the door with a squawk as Levi chucked a book at her. He rolled his eyes, grabbing his keys and slipping his feet into a pair of shoes, following her out of their apartment. As he locked the door, he thought back to the lawyer brat he'd be meeting tomorrow. All his good looks didn't mean shit if he couldn't fix Levi's little problem.

 _He really is fucking hot, though,_ he mused, smirking to himself. _I wonder if he likes cock up his ass._


	3. Parental Pressures and Horsey Woes

The soft sound of water showering down against porcelain filled the bathroom, echoing off of eggshell white walls and marble flooring. The gentle pattering was soothing, mimicking rain on a dreary day. Eren stuck his head under the showerhead, eyes closing tightly as he upturned his face, fingers scrubbing his brown locks free of conditioner. Every morning that he had to work, he always made sure to take a shower to begin his day; it helped brace him for the day by calming him and fully waking him from sleep. Feeling refreshed, he turned the faucet off and pulled back the curtain, shivering when the cool air played over his drenched skin. Eyes remaining closed, he blindly reached towards the wall, fingers finding and grasping onto an impossibly soft towel. He brought it up to his face first, and wiped away every little droplet.

Eren lifted his head and opened two equally vibrant yet disparate eyes, looking towards his fogged up mirror. He ran the towel over his body, drying himself quickly, before he stepped out onto a plush rug, wiggling his toes against it. He stepped up to the counter and leaned forward, towel wiping away the condensation with muffled squeaks until he could once again see his reflection.

Seaglass and amber stared back at him; his eyes were a startling contrast, and he hated them. When he was a baby, the left eye had had a disfigured splotch of gold, though it had mostly matched the turquoise of his right. It rapidly consumed the iris, and within a couple of years that molten color had taken over. Along with it came intense sensitivity to light and horrible migraines. Kids made fun of him relentlessly for having a creepy cat eye. He remembered begging his parents to fix it, or to at least let him cover it up. They immediately refused, the excuse being along the lines of "God made you in His image, Eren. To do such a thing would be a grave insult to Our Lord." So, he had sucked it up, all the way up until middle school when a group of boys cornered him in the bathroom and beat the shit out of him for being a child of the devil.

His parents changed their tune rapidly. They took him to an optometrist, who ran a series of tests on his vision, and then prescribed him colored contacts for his left eye. From that point on he rarely ever went without the golden iris concealed and hidden, and he was transferred to a new school, sans bullies. His mother insisted he "let his eye breathe" when at home, but that was the only time he allowed it to be exposed. Even into his adulthood, he still took the time to put in the contact, masking amber with teal, though he highly doubted anyone would bash him for it, what with how they thought him a saint.

Eren did hate the eye, though. He scowled when recalling how paparazzi had gotten a picture of him with both of his eyes on display. He'd accidentally ripped his last contact and had to leave for work with it exposed. He didn't have time to go pick up his prescription, and he'd already called his assistant to meet him at the office with it, but his luck was notoriously shitty. When he'd walked out of his front door, he spotted a photographer, snapping pictures immediately at his exit. How Eren wanted to sneer and flip the fucking woman off. Yet, he would never dare to do such a thing; it would ruin his image of a kind man, and his parents would kill him for such a display. So instead, he smiled brightly, his head tilting to the side ever so slightly. She got her pictures, and he turned away immediately, striding to his car to make a hasty retreat.

Even though he'd called around to all of the magazine and newspaper publishers to put a gag on the media, the image still ended up on the internet somehow. And there was no way to get it permanently removed.

Banishing the thoughts from his head, Eren picked up his contact case, twisting the lid off swiftly. He eased it out of its bath, cleansed it with more contact solution, and then balanced it on the tip of his index finger. He filled the small concave lens carefully, and set the bottle of solution onto the counter. He held his lid open with his now free hand, pressing the little film to his iris, and blinked until the disc fit perfectly over it. He assessed his reflection, feeling satisfaction at his now completely symmetrical features. He dumped and washed out the case, setting it on a towel to dry, and exited the bathroom, having brushed his teeth prior to the shower.

A suit was hanging on the outside of the closet, and he walked over to it, removing it from the hangers. Eren had selected it last night, a routine of his that helped avoid rushing in the morning. He knew from experience that trying to be hasty was a terrible idea for him; he'd forget things, spill coffee on himself, and once he even ended up heading in the opposite direction of work in his panicked rushing. After he carefully dressed himself, he slid his feet into freshly polished dress shoes, and admired himself in the full length mirror hanging on his wall, giving his reflection an approving nod.

Eren exited his bedroom, heading into the hall and down a set of stairs. He waltzed through the foyer and strode into the kitchen, making a B-line for the coffee machine. It was set to automatically brew a pot at a designated time every day; all he had to do was fill it the night before. He pulled a travel mug from the cabinet, and filled it to the brim with the precious liquid. After adding a splash of cream and a dash (okay, maybe three spoonfuls) of sugar, he placed the lid onto it tightly, and left the kitchen. Snagging keys, phone, and briefcase, he made his way outside and to his beautiful silver Jaguar. Unlocking it and climbing inside, Eren settled into his seat before starting it and buckling in.

As he was pulling out of the driveway, his phone began to ring loudly. He sighed when he read the caller ID, grimacing in resignation. _Here we go,_ he thought grumpily.

With a click, he answered the call, and it connected to the speakers of his car.

 _"Eren, dear, how are you this morning?"_ His mother's voice blared loudly, and he winced as he turned the volume down swiftly. He had forgotten how high he'd left it last night.

"Hello, mother, it's good to hear from you. I'm just heading into work. How have you been?" Eren asked conversationally, hoping to keep the conversation steered away from him.

 _"Oh, I've been just wonderful, darling. I got an invitation to participate in an orchestra for a recital on the 16th, so I've been preparing,"_ Carla hummed happily, and Eren could hear the sound of a bow gently sliding over strings.

He grinned to himself, taking a turn and keeping his eyes on the road. "That's great, mom. I'll see if I can take time out of work to come and see you play."

 _"Oh, no, there's no need to do that. You shouldn't suggest something so irresponsible, Eren,"_ she chided, stilling the bow and leaving silence between them for a moment. He had to supress the urge to roll his eyes. 23, and his mother still treated him like a child. _"I actually called for another reason."_

 _Oh, fuck, here it comes,_ Eren thought, bracing himself for the inevitable as he kept his tone light and innocently curious. "Oh? And that would be?"

He could hear Carla shifting around and assumed she was putting her cello away carefully. _"I wanted to invite you and Annie to dinner this Saturday night. It's been a while since your father and I have seen you two, and I'm sure your busy schedules keep you apart. Unless... You haven't been staying with each other, have you?"_ She demanded, her voice sounding scandalised.

"Of course not, mother. You and dad raised me better than that. We won't be moving in together before marriage," he recited, holding back an irritated sigh. His parents were conservative to the extreme, and though they'd raised him to be the same way, he really... wasn't. But he still kept up pretenses for them; he didn't want to upset them or disappoint them. As he had done all his life, he aimed to please them and keep them happy: he would do anything to maintain the status quo. "I'm sure Annie would love to join us for dinner."

 _"Speaking of marriage, Eren,"_ Carla started, ignoring his last statement. He silently cursed himself for walking straight into that one. _"When do you intend to propose to her? You two have been dating for 3 years now, and you're not getting any younger. Neither am I or your father. We want grandchildren, Eren. We didn't wait this long to get married. God chose her for you, sweetheart; you need to propose before you leave her waiting too long. You don't want to lose out on such a precious gift from God."_

Eren pushed down the urge to smack his head repeatedly into the steering wheel as he turned into the parking lot of his office. Seeking to appease the woman that gave him life, he breathed a silent sigh, and calmly spit out his tried and true argument. "You know I want this to be special, mother. Annie means too much to me for me to just do it randomly. I'm planning to make it as romantic as possible, and that takes a while to do. I promise it'll be soon, so please, let me make this perfect."

Carla relaxed, swooning with a gentle lilt to her voice. _"We raised such a little romantic gentleman. Your father and I are so proud of you. I'll concede and let you do it your way, dear. Just make it soon. Your father and I only want the best for you."_

Swallowing a pained lump, Eren kept his voice smooth and steady. " I know, mom. But I've gotta go, I made it to work. Tell dad I love him, and we'll see you both this weekend. I love you."

 _"We love you too, darling,"_ she responded, and the call came to a resounding halt.

Eren leaned back in his seat, taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly. He did love his parents, and he knew they only meant well. But sometimes—well, most of the time—their expectations of him were suffocating. His entire life plan was set to their schedule. He graduated high school early, losing out on valedictorian by a small margin to his best friend Armin (which they had been unhappy with him about, but still happy that he was one of the top students, and were nonetheless proud of the little blond); he attended the university of his father's choosing immediately and worked himself ragged to earn top marks. He interned at a company that his father suggested, owned by a man he was colleagues with. On top of it all, after he had finished college and passed his bar exam, his parents insisted he open his own law firm and be his own boss. They funded the project, built it to their stipulations, and then dumped it into his lap. His mother forced his very first client on him; an older woman who had been accused of embezzling money—a Hollywood director who attended his parent's church, if he recalled correctly—and even though he hated getting a crook off scot-free, he swallowed his pride and did it for his mother.

Even dating Annie hadn't been entirely his idea, although she was wonderful and he certainly didn't regret it. He hadn't even met her on his own. His mother introduced them, and when he thought about why, he snorted at the sheer ridiculousness of what had to be the reason. Annie was the daughter of the pastor at their then-new and beloved church; she would make the perfect daughter-in-law for them, as she always attended church every Sunday, even though she was a popular actress and was busy taking roles and filming. Eren loved her though, despite how they had met in the first place. He was happy to be with such a beautiful woman who met his parent's standards of being a good Christian girl with a high social standing.

In spite of how stressful they made his life, regardless of the fact that he strained to maintain perfection to please them at every turn, Eren loved his mother and father, and would continue to obey them until the day he died. And nothing would ever change that. He'd rather go through strenuous trials and keep them happy than to ever have them turn a disappointed and hateful eye onto him.

Opening his eyes, he took one last deep breath, before he slid out of the car and confidently strode inside of _The Law Offices of Eren M. Jaeger_. His receptionist, Historia, looked up upon his entry and gave him an angelic smile. She had the office phone held to her ear, and her dainty hand was covering the transmitter to muffle her words.

"Mr. Jaeger, I have a potential client that insists on requesting a consultation with you as soon as possible," she murmured, her high voice trilling gently.

Eren walked up to the desk and gestured for him to hand her the phone, and once it was passed to him, he brought it up to his ear and began speaking professionally. "Good morning, this is Eren Jaeger from The Law Offices of Eren M. Jaeger. What may I assist you with?"

A squeal pierced his eardrum, and he winced at the sudden loudness of it. _"Oh, I didn't expect to be able to speak with you directly! Hiya, I'm Hange Zoe, and I'm calling with the hopes of setting up an appointment for a consultation with you. A dear friend and co-worker of mine got tangled up in an unfortunate situation that resulted in a misunderstanding between Trost Police Department and him. We were researching lawyers, and you seemed like our best bet! So, can you help him?"_

Blinking at the flow of words, he took a few moments to process the information that had been practically yelled into his ear rapid-fire. "Ah, a misunderstanding? Well, I suppose if that is all it was, then it wouldn't be very hard at all to clear his name. You are both aware of the cost of a consultation, correct?"

 _"Oh yeah, it's no problem at all,"_ Hange stated airily, sounding completely unconcerned. _"Can you fit him in, Mr. Jaeger?"_

Eren hummed thoughtfully, setting his briefcase on top of the reception desk and flicking it open. He pulled out his planner and flipped to the current date. Sucking his teeth, he turned another page and looked over everything written.

"Unfortunately I have no free time today. However, I do have a block available at 2:30pm tomorrow. If you'd like, I could pencil in Mister..." he trailed off, waiting for the woman to fill in the blank for her. Historia quickly slid a pen into his hand, smiling up at him, and she picked up her own pencil, holding it steady over the week's calendar on her desk. The thing was covered in his schedule and appointments, with colorful sticky notes decorating it, information scrawled in a pretty hand across them.

 _"Levi Ackerman!"_ the woman screeched, excitement radiating through the phone just from the sheer volume of her voice. It made the receiver crackle a little more than normal, and Eren half-grimaced. _"That's perfect timing, actually! Our lunch break starts then."_

 _Who the fuck eats lunch that late?_ the lawyer thought to himself in disbelief, before giving a quick shake of his head. "All right, I've got Mr. Levi Ackerman scheduled for tomorrow at 2:30 sharp. Please inform him that I dislike tardiness, as even arriving a few minutes late throws off my entire day."

 _"Okie dokie! Affirmative, captain! I'll make sure he arrives on time all safe and sound. Thank you again for this!"_ Hange cheered, a small laugh in her voice.

The line clicked as she ended the call abruptly, and Eren was left to stand there in silence, clutching the phone. That woman was a whirlwind of crazy, he decided. Handing it back to Historia, he glanced down at her calendar to make sure her placement of the appointment matched his. He gave her a nod, and a kind smile.

"Good morning, Historia. Please have my lunch from the usual place delivered at 11:45. I have an important call to make at noon before my 12:30 appointment, so I would like to eat when Mr. Reeves' appointment ends."

"Of course, sir. I'll be sure to call in your order with Marco promptly." The girl looked down at her desk, picking up a stack of papers and shuffling them neatly. "Miss Blanc called and left a message for you, and Mr. and Mrs. Kirchstein requested for Mr. Arlert to be their divorce lawyer..." She trailed off with a wince.

"I'm sure Horseface isn't happy about the whole thing, but I'm betting he'll be relieved if Armin handles the case. He knows that Ar will remain neutral and be fair to both parties with minimal grievances," Eren stated gently, trying to calm the small woman with his words.

She gave him a bright smile, her eyes holding a sad light. "You're right, Eren. We all knew this divorce was a long time coming. It's just hard to see a friend's family splitting up—regardless of him being an adult or not."

"We'll just have to support him if it gets too hard on him," a raspy voice piped up, and they both turned to see Ymir Bodt leaning against the doorway to her office, dressed smartly in a skirt suit. She was another lawyer employed at his company; everyone who worked in his offices were friends he had made during university, apart from Armin, who he had known his entire life. Ymir just so happened to be the twin sister of Marco, who owned a homey little restaurant a couple blocks from their building. They always ordered from him, and not just because they had become friends through his sister, but because his food was the best damn food they had ever had.

Eren gave a smile to the woman, nodding his head in agreement. "I'm sure all he'll need is a swift kick to the ass. And a little bit of your brother soothing his wounds," he joked.

"Oh, har har, Eren," Ymir made a disgusted face. "Really love the mental image of my _twin brother_ fucking that horse."

"Hey, I was just as surprised to find out that our very own Freckled Jesus was into bestiality." He gave her his smarmiest shit-eating grin.

"Oh god! Shut the fuck up!" she shouted, looking even more unsettled, before yanking off one of her heels and giving a well-aimed through of it at his head. "Take your filthy mouth into your office and leave us innocent girls alone."

"Yeah, _'innocent'_ ," Historia muttered to herself, raising a brow and giving Ymir a scolding look. She raised her voice a few octaves to be heard. "You know very well that if Eren didn't beat you to it, you would have said it yourself."

Ymir faked a scandalised look, placing a hand over her heart. "Krista, baby, how could you even suggest..." she trailed off, drawing a line down her cheek from her eye to mimic a tear and giving a kicked-puppy gaze to the little flaxen-haired beauty.

"Save it," Historia sang playfully, coming around her desk to retrieve the thrown shoe.

Eren rolled his eyes and left the two girls to their antics, heading down a hall and into his office. He leaned back against the door and flicked the light on, steeling himself for what was sure to be a very long day.


	4. Blackmailed Bribery and Shit-Eating Grin

A brilliant cacophony of noise filled the studio; Miche wailed on the drums like his life depended on it, his head bobbing in time with the beat. Playing with all her might so as not to be outdone, Hange's fingers danced expertly along the strings of the bass guitar, her face contorted into concentration. The intruments blended together to create a wicked harmony, and a huge grin overtook the woman's features. Levi had his eyes closed, one hand clutching the neck of his guitar, the other resting prone over the strings. His head was tilted back, and he followed the melody, before his body moved into action. Leaning into the microphone, he began playing his guitar, and as his bandmates came to a crescendo, he parted his lips and took a breath in. Levi sang a breathy verse right as the two dropped down into a softer tone, his words flowing like velvet into the mic. His eyes remained closed as he sang, a small smile playing on his lips as his two companions continued to play flawlessly, and together they created a perfect symphony. They were all in their element, focusing on nothing but the music, and they all lost themselves in it. They could practice and play for hours, time passing them by without them even noticing. This was what they were made to do.

As the song came to an end, Levi strummed his guitar softly, before letting the sound fade out and meld with the final notes of Hange's. He took a deep breath, and opened his eyes, raising them to look through the glass. Erwin and their producer, Farlan Church, were sitting next to each other; Farlan wore a devilish grin, staring at the band in awe, and he gave them two thumbs up. Their manager was far more subdued, a subtle smile resting across his lips as he spoke through their headsets.

"That was perfect. We'll call this a wrap." At his words, Levi pulled off his headset and strode over to a stool, picking up a water bottle and chugging it down.

Catching his breath, he wiped the back of his hand against his sweaty brow and turned to regard his bandmates. "You two did pretty well," he complimented, and Hange whooped with excitement. That was the best compliment they were going to get out of him. Considering his normal brash way of speaking, it was the highest praise.

Miche slid off of his stool, setting his drumsticks down carefully, before he grabbed his own bottle of water. He sniffed the air, bringing the bottle to his lips. "Smells like it'll be in the top ten."

"Fuckin' weirdo," Levi muttered, rolling his eyes. Speaking up, he raised a brow at the other man. "I'm holding you to that, or else you're treating us next time we go to a bar."

"If he's right, then it'll be on you to pay for our drinks, little grumpy!" Hange added, adjusting her glasses as she flashed him a shit eating grin. "You're making fool's bets going against Nose like that. You know he's never wrong."

Levi merely shrugged, ignoring her blasted nickname. "There's a first time for everything," was his explanation.

The three of them headed out of the recording booth and stepped out into the main room of the studio, approaching the producer and manager.

"Dude, that was fuckin' sick. Somehow you guys just keep getting better and better. I can't wait to get this all edited." Farlan was gushing, nearly bouncing in his seat. Levi considered him to be their biggest fan, and he always laid on the praise, making them all feel good after particularly brutal sessions. He was also one of their closest friends.

Erwin was checking his watch, giving a little hum of thought. "It's a little early, but we might as well take lunch. We have three more songs to get recorded before we'll have the complete album, and your schedule tomorrow his booked up with interviews. We might as well try and get them done today."

Hange swallowed a whine, mouthing _'slave driver'_ at Levi behind their manager's back.

"I told you all he was missing was a whip," Levi whispered to her, causing her to choke on a giggle and snort unattractively.

Erwin turned and raised one of the caterpillar's he called an eyebrow. "Something funny? We could always skip lunch and get right back into it, if you'd prefer?"

"Fuck no, Eyebrows!" Levi huffed, crossing his arms and tilting his chin up haughtily. "I have some errands to run during lunch; good luck getting any work done without the frontman, because I'm leaving whether you say we can or not."

"What kind of errands? This is the first I'm hearing of it." Erwin frowned down at the shorter man, his head tilting to the side slightly.

"I don't owe you an explanation, _mom._ I'm a grown ass man, and I'll be back on time. Don't get your panties in a twist," the raven-haired man spat out with a scowl, glaring at his manager and just daring the taller, broader man to try and stop him.

"All right, calm down. You can go run your errands. I was planning on treating you all to lunch for your hard work, but I'll just take Miche, Hange, and Farlan."

"Free food!" Hange squealed excitedly, throwing her arms up in cheer. She latched onto Erwin and grinned up at him. "You beautiful blond angel!"

Levi rolled his eyes, grabbing his jacket and starting to walk towards the exit. He glanced back over his shoulder. "I'll take a raincheck on that," he drawled, before turning back to head out the door. He walked down a hallway and up to an elevator, pressing the down arrow to call one. He waited patiently, checking the time on his phone. It was 2:16, meaning he had to haul ass in order to make his consultation appointment. Hange had warned him against being tardy, to which he could only sneer. What did it matter so long as he paid the guy?

A _ding_ , and the soft shushing of the doors opening signaled the arrival of the elevator, and Levi climbed in, hitting the button for the garage level. It took a minute for the doors to register the command, and once they'd fallen shut, he began to descend all the way down. He watched the numbers tick until displaying a B, and he braced himself as the metal box came to a sudden halt. Exiting the elevator, he waltzed towards his car, slipping his key from his back pocket. After unlocking it and sliding into the driver's seat, he started the vehicle and instantly turned the heat on full blast. It may be early October, but the air outside was frigid. They'd already had the first frost of the year, much to his annoyance. He couldn't stand ungodly hot weather, but he also detested the cold. Levi was much more suited to tepid weather, to warmth and gentle breezes, not harsh winters and ballsweating summers. Sliding on a pair of sunglasses, he checked his rearview to make sure it was clear behind him.

He pulled out of the garage, bringing up mapquest and hitting start. Siri told him to take a left, and so he did. If luck was on his side, he'd make it right on time, and not a minute sooner. But this was him he was talking about; luck shat all over him. He got stuck driving behind the oldest fucking person alive, who was going a wild 30 in a 45; he had to detour around a fuckton of construction, adding 5 minutes to his driving time; and worst of all, he had to stop and wait while a gaggle of schoolchildren were escorted along a crosswalk by a crossing guard holding her shitty little stop sign. Levi momentarily considered manslaughter, his foot itching to slam down on the gas. However, he doubted the hot lawyer could get _those_ charges dropped. He could imagine it now; him, wearing that hideous orange jumpsuit, handcuffed to a chair, and trying to plead his case.

 _"Your honor, I didn't mean to slam on my gas and run over every single little fucking mouthbreather, I just have restless leg syndrome. It acted up. Backing over them was entirely coincidental.I mixed up drive and reverse. Silly me."_

Yeah, that'd fly over real well in court. After they had finished crossing, Levi hit his gas so hard his tires squealed, and he sped as fast as legally allowed, glancing periodically at the time on his dash. He whipped into the parking lot of the building, and turned harshly into the nearest parking space. Faster than he'd ever done before, the car was turned off, and he was out, slamming the door and striding across the lot as he locked the car behind him.

He pushed the main door open and strut through the entryway, making a B-line for what he assumed was the reception desk. Behind it sat a tiny blonde woman, who looked disgustingly cheerful; Levi had to fight the urge to sneer.

Sky blue doe eyes looked up at him, and a pretty pink smile graced her lips. "Welcome to _The Law Offices of Eren M. Jaeger_ ; my name is Historia, how may I assist you?"

"Levi Ackerman. I have an appointment," he bit out, coming off every bit of unfriendly that he knew he was. He stared down at her through his sunglasses, trying to intimidate her to hurry the fuck up.

Somehow her smile didn't even waver, and she glanced down at her little calender, her long manicured talon dragging down a list of names. "Ah, yes, here you are. I'll phone Mr. Jaeger to let him know you're here. You're welcome to sit in the waiting area."

Levi disregarded that, choosing to stand instead. He leaned lightly against her desk, pulling out his phone to browse through his social media. He ignored the little blonde's voice as she spoke into the transmitter. He paused to look at a photo on instagram; Hange had just posted it, and he had to supress a laugh. She had captured the moment just as her straw wrapper hit Erwin in the eye. The caption made him smile. _"Absolutely worth my inevitable murder."_

Dress shoes sharply smacking on the wooden floor drew his attention away from Hange's antics, and he looked up, slipping his phone into his back pocket. Eren Jaeger strode with purpose down the hall, his face a professional mask, though his ocean eyes were lit with an angry fire. _Wait, eyes?_ Levi thought, his attention shooting back to them. To his utter disappointment and suspicion, they were the exact same color, although the left one looked a little dull. Huh, that was odd. He'd have to look into this kid more.

The lawyer stopped in front of him, crossing his arms and looking down his nose at Levi. His brow raised, and when he spoke, his voice was low and tinged with an edge. "Levi Ackerman, I'm Eren Jaeger. You're late, so let's hurry it along to my office, shall we?" With that, he turned on his heel and stalked back off the way he came, shooting an expectant glare over his shoulder.

"Tch." The singer shoved his thumbs into his front pockets and followed after the very attractive man, his body lax and moving at a leisurely pace. From the little interaction they'd had, Levi deduced that this brat probably had some anger issues. He'd only been a few minutes late, and it wasn't exactly like it was his fault, not that Eren was aware of that fact. He seemed to be making judgments about his character without knowing shit about him, and that ticked him off a little. Weren't lawyers supposed to learn all the facts before judging? Wasn't that the entire fucking point of the judicial system?

Eren held his office door open and gestured Levi inside, stepping in after him and shutting the door softly. He jutted his chin in the direction of a chair placed in front of his desk. "Please have a seat."

Doing as asked, Levi sat, deciding that it was pretty comfortable and had to be on the pricier end of the spectrum. He leaned back, resting his ankle casually over his knee and tossing his arm over the back of it. The lawyer eyed him, thinking that he looked every bit the poster boy for standoffish and possessing an easy confidence. He moved around his desk and sat in his leather swivel chair, gathering a notebook and a pen before flipping to a blank page.

"Let's get this over with and skip the pleasantries, kid. I've got shit to do and fucking no time to do it," Levi announced suddenly in the quiet room, checking the time on his phone. "Hopefully this isn't a waste of time," he muttered.

The younger man's eye twitched with irritation; he set his jaw and spoke sharply through clenched teeth. "I'm going to be very up front with you. We are going to do this consultation, because you're paying me for it and you've already taken up a valuable timeslot I could have used for something far more productive. Instead of wasting my time and kicking you the fuck out of my office for being an absolute asshole like I _want_ to, I'm going to hear you out, and then you're going to leave. I'm not going to take your case."

Levi raised a brow and looked up at Eren with a scrutinizing expression, his nose wrinkling up. "You know, you are nothing like what they say in all those articles. Compassionate my fucking ass. Definitely not a saint, either." His tone was very conversational, but his slate eyes were cold and hardened like glass. "So this _is_ a waste of my time," he sighed. "Fucking perfect. I'm going to murder Hange."

"Hard to have compassion for a prick with no consideration to other people's schedules," Eren shot back, and the smaller male gave him an appraising look. "So hurry the fuck up, I have more important cases and clients to take care of today."

"Shitty brat," Levi sucked his teeth, crossing his arms and cocking his head to the side. "I've got three charges I need Trost Police Department to drop. Two weren't my fault, and the other is a gross exaggeration. If word gets out about this, it'll affect my career and the people that I work with. I'd rather it not come to that, and prison life really doesn't suit me."

"Would you care to explain in more depth, Mr. Ackerman?" The words may have been professional, but the tone used was anything but polite. He had a sneer on his lips, and seemed to assume that Levi was surely guilty of said charges without knowing anything of the circumstances, and was only trying to buy his way out of a well-deserved sentence.

Keeping his expression blank came easy to him, and he spoke with a monotony that a serial killer would be envious of. "Driving while intoxicated, possession of narcotics, and public indecency," he held up his fingers as he listed them off, and when Eren gave him a questioning stare, he continued to elaborate. "I had a few drinks, decided to hook up with some drunken pretty boy, and got in the driver's seat. The plan was to take his ass to a hotel, fuck like animals, and then go home to shower until my skin rubbed off. Unfortunately, shit-for-brains was holding and decided my moving car was the perfect place to do a line. Let me fucking tell you, if I knew that this fucker was going to be holding anything more than my cock, I wouldn't have even let the shitstain in my car."

Eren's lips twitched fractionally, though he fought to keep his expression neutral. While this Levi character was brash and abrasive, and came off as an utter bastard, his manner of speaking was pretty... interesting, to say the least. Levi didn't come off as a guy who cracked jokes, but his brutally honest delivery combined with his deadpan expression made Eren want to break into a smile and laugh.

"I'm already planning on dropping this ballsack off somewhere and going home because I'm softer than a baby's ass and really not into drugs or fucking a guy high out of his mind, but pretty boy has other plans. He manages to get my dick out of my pants and I'm swerving all over the road even though I'm very not drunk. This gets me pulled over and taken in to the station."

"Okay, so," the lawyer starts, pausing as he finishes scrawling something in his notebook. "What brought about the charges being placed? Were you over the legal limit?"

Levi runs a hand back through his hair, displacing the strands and managing to look effortlessly attractive. "The officer took one look at me when I rolled the window down, saw my flaccid dick and a bag of coke in this guy's hand, and hauled me out of my window. The look on his face would have been priceless if he wasn't a raging homophobe." The raven-haired man gives a disgusted sneer, recalling the absolute revulsion and hate plastered all over Officer Grabby's face.

"What makes you think that?" Eren questions, his brows furrowing as he taps the pen against the wood of his desk.

"Take your pick: the aggressive and repeated use of the word 'faggot', the fact that I had done nothing but greeted him after rolling my window down and he thought it appropriate to remove me from my vehicle by force without reading me my Miranda rights, or they way he spit on me when he had me pinned on the ground in handcuffs and called me a 'disgusting cocksucker'." Levi studied the free edges of his nails casually, the hard edge to his voice and callous light in his eyes the only source of how livid the experience had truly left him.

"I... Wow, I can't wrap my head around that." The younger man leaned back, letting his pen fall onto his desk, and his expression took on a pensive shadow, his lips pulling down into a frown.

"I'm pretty sure Cokehead got it worse. He tried to run when I got cuffed, and earned a few good kicks to the ribcage." He went silent then, brooding on the entire experience. He had left these details out when explaining to Hange; Levi didn't really have a choice in that matter, or else Hange would be joining him in prison with a murder in her hands. When he had come out as bisexual all those years ago, she was his most hostile defender. This wasn't his first case of discrimination, and it surely wouldn't be the last, but a few had landed assholes in the hospital because when Hange flew into a rage, it was _dangerous._ He never wanted to get on her bad side. She was annoying and cheerful and sweet, until someone pushed the wrong button. Hange could strike fear into the hearts of tougher men than him.

After a few moments of a heavy, awkward silence, Levi broke it. "As for my BAC, I was a cool 0.02%. Wasn't even touching the legal limit. The possession charge was fucking retarded, because they tested me, and I came up clean as fuck. I wasn't even the fucktard holding the damn bag. I'm pretty sure they found even more on the actual cokehead, go figure, right?"

Eren hummed in response, swiveling slowly from left to right in his chair as he mulled everything over and processed the information. One thing stuck out to him, having been glossed over, and he focused his eyes on the man in front of him. "So, wait. Why did he bring out the narcotics and your, ah... _member_... at the same time? It seems like it would be pretty difficult to snort coke and suck something in tandem."

"That—" the singer started, but cut off abruptly and dropped his gaze. While avoiding looking at the lawyer, he muttered something under his breath. His porcelain cheeks flushed a pretty pastel pink, and his brows screwed up in what Eren thought to be embarrassment.

He was intrigued; this entire time, Levi had exactly no filter, saying whatever came into his head unedited. He seemed to lack any shame and possessed no shreds of decency, so what about this could have him actually appearing embarrassed.

"I'm sorry? I didn't quite catch that, Mr. Ackerman," he prompted, leaning forward more in his seat.

 _"Christ,_ kid," Levi groaned, dry washing his face before peeking over his fingertips towards the hot as fuck lawyer. "This shit is so much easier to say to your best friend who's seen you at your lowest while fucking buzzed and exhausted." He took a deep breath and released a long-suffering sigh, dropping his hands into his lap.

"Well?"

"...He wanted to do a line," the older man hedged, tensing his shoulders slightly.

"And?" Eren pressed, leaning so heavily forward that his chest rested against mahogany.

"Tch." Levi bared his teeth in a displeased scowl. "He wanted to do a line off of my fucking dick."

"Oh." The younger man blinked turquoise eyes slowly, sitting back as he replayed the words in his head. _"Oh."_

"I wasn't going to _let him_ ," he stressed at the odd look that Eren was giving him, like he was evaluating him in a new and unwanted light. "I have more fucking class than that, shitty brat."

"I knew that," the lawyer spit out defensively, a gorgeous blush decorating his tan cheeks. Damn, this fucking kid was hotter than should be legal. It was really too fucking bad that he had already refused to take his case, because he really wanted to secretly drool over this Greek Adonis of a lawyer.

Levi snapped his thoughts out of that direction, eyeing the picture of a pretty blonde woman with glacier blue bedroom eyes sitting on Eren's desk. "Is that your wife?"

Eren jerked like he'd been slapped at the sudden question, his eyes suddenly drawn to the frame that he'd forgotten was there. "Uh, girlfriend," he corrected. Levi frowned excessively before turning to the other picture frame, studying the three people featured. The man was clearly Dr. Grisha Jaeger, a stern expression on his bespectacled face, and the shorter, softer woman on his left Eren's mother. She was certainly beautiful, and Eren resembled her more so than he did his father, although neither of them had eyes quite like his. Grisha's were a muted hazel, and Carla had caramel-brown irises. The third figure in the picture was a girl; she looked about high school age, and she had the most vibrant red hair he'd ever seen. Her eyes held the closest relation to Eren's, fierce, bright green, lit up with a determined fire. Her shirt drew his attention; she was wearing No Name's first band shirt. A smirk curled his lips; this girl was probably the lawyer's little sister, and she was a fan of his.

He straightened up, turning his gaze back onto Eren. "Before I escort myself out, I propose a trade of information."

"Uh," Eren hesitated, giving Levi a suspicious once-over. "Explain?"

"It's purely because I'm fucking curious, but I doubt you'd answer my question without me telling you a secret of mine." The older man rolled his neck to loosen it up, giving him a moment to reject the notion or let his own curiosity get the better of him.

"...Fine. What do you want to ask?" Clearly, curiosity had won the war, though he didn't sound pleased by that fact.

"Your eyes. I saw a picture of you, and one of them was gold. Was that a contact?" The singer wasted no time, bluntly asking his burning question as he leaned slightly forward.

Eren blanched, cursing himself for wanting to know what Levi's secret could possibly be. "It's actually gold. I'm wearing a contact right now because I hate the attention and it's painfully sensitive to light."

"Shit, really? I thought it might be photoshop, but the dullness of your left eye made me reconsider that. Can I see?" Levi asked, his slate eyes laser-focused on Eren's teal ones.

"What part of 'I hate the attention' did you not understand? Or do you just not give a shit?" Eren grumbled, frowning in an almost pouty manner.

"The latter, obviously. Now show me," the singer didn't even miss a beat, snapping his fingers for the brunet to hurry the hell up.

"Fuck no, tell me your secret first. That was the deal," the lawyer stated diplomatically, shooting Levi a dirty and accusing look.

"Fucking brat," he grumbled. "Your cutie little sister there?" He pointed at the picture for emphasis. "I'm the man on her shirt."

Eren blinked, before widening his eyes and dropping his jaw. He snatched up the picture frame, studying Isabel's shirt, before comparing it to the man sitting in front of him. There were clear differences, obviously; L was blindfolded and most of his features were obscured, but there were also uncanny similarities. Apart from the commanding, sultry slate bedroom eyes and thin black brows, they shared those same sexy pouty lips, porcelain skin that seemed to lack flaws, and possessed a delicate femininity while still maintaining a masculine aura; the epitome of androgyny the whole band strived for. Their slight, slender frames were identical, as were their compact muscular builds. Eren wasn't sure how tall L was, but he knew that he was shorter in stature from how much Isabel went on about him, and Levi fit the bill there. The most telling feature was his hair: inky black locks falling into his face, parted off-center towards the right, and a well-maintained undercut. This wasn't just some regular rich asshole that came into his offices on the daily, this was fucking L from _No Name_ , bonafied androgynous sex god with a jawline that could cut you. He had L sitting in _his_ office. This aesthetically pleasing man was a famous fucking singer.

 _Isabel is so not going to fucking believe me._

"Holy shit," he breathed out, still in shock. "No fucking way."

"Fucking _way_ , kid." Levi smirked at the reaction he'd gotten out of Eren; clearly his sister wasn't the only fan in the Jaeger family. His phone chirped, and his smirk dropped as an irritated growl rumbled in his throat. He pulled it out of his pocket to see that Eyebrows had shot him an angry text message wondering where the hell he was. He quickly sent a reply of _'retract your panties out of your asscrack, I'm on my way, I got caught up.'_ With a sigh, he pocketed it. "Hate to cut this short, brat, but I've got to go back to the studio. My manager can't stop riding my fucking ass. I'll have a check dropped off for the consultation."

As he went to stand, Eren shot up and gripped onto his wrist to stop him. "Wait." Levi gave him a withering look, but he stubbornly refused to let the other man go. "You're an ass, and I don't want to work with you. But... If you were somehow to get some tickets to your next concert for my sister Izzy, I might be more willing negotiate taking on your case."

Levi's eyes narrowed into slits as he regarded the lawyer hanging onto his arm. His tone was absolutely drenched in disbelief. "Are you... are you fucking blackmailing me into bribing you?"

"That depends... is it working? Because if so..." he trailed off, a shit-eating grin overtaking his features and making his face look surprisingly boyish and deviously sexy at the same time.

"...what kind of lawyer _are_ you?"

"The kind that's going to save your ass if you play your cards right."

The impish light in his eyes drew a little half-smirk to his lips, and he chuckled dryly. "Shit, kid. You've got my hands tied. I'll even go so far as to get VIP tickets for you and your sister. If..." He trailed off, waiting for Eren to take the bait and make an impatient noise. "If you show me your eye right now."

"You're an asshole, you know that?" Eren groused, letting go of his arm to pry his contact out of his eye.

"The asshole that's scoring you _free VIP tickets._ Now quit your bitching," Levi huffed, his eyes never leaving Eren's face.

As the contact came out and the brunet blinked to clear his vision, Levi's eyes widened and he leaned closer. The contrast was so striking and gorgeous; the gold stood out against his caramel skin, and the long black lashes framing his lids made the molten amber all the more vibrant.

"Not bad," he muttered to himself, grey irises flicking back and forth between that impossible swirl of greens and blues to the gilded eye.

Eren flushed at the comment, too used to being called repulsive and ugly because of his heterochromia. "Thanks," he said hesitantly, slipping the contact back in.

While he was preoccupied with that, Levi snapped out of his daze and stepped over to the desk, picking up the pen to jot his number down on the open notebook. "Get ahold of me when we can schedule another appointment. I'll bring the tickets then. And I'm going to tell the same thing to you that I did to Hange." He spun on his heel and faced the younger man, his expression severe. "If you even dare to breathe a words of this situation of mine to my manager Erwin, on the off chance that you two should meet, I will end you before he can end me. Until this shitshow is in the past and charges are dropped, he's to be kept in the dark. Got it, kid?"

Eren sneered, baring his teeth and seeming entirely unruffled by the threat of bodily harm. "Got it, _old man_."

"...Shitty brat," he huffed, rolling his eyes. Secretly, he was pleased that Eren could dish out whatever he was served. It made for a more interesting conversation, and he hated people that couldn't take a few barbs.

A damn shame the lawyer was straight, because he'd have already talked himself into his pants. He exited the office without so much of a goodbye, trying to ignore the buzzing of his phone. The receptionist called out a cheery goodbye to him, and he raised his hand up in a half-assed wave, striding out of the main entrance. Once he was situated in his car, he heaved the biggest sigh of his life, and braced himself for the onslaught of an angry Erwin tearing him a new asshole while he lied on the fly about where he was.

Back in his office, Eren was staring down at his notebook, eyes trailing over the digits written there. Levi had come in and ellicited such an array of emotions in just a single hour that he had whiplash. Even though he was so abrasive and brash, Eren found himself enjoying the man's manner of speech and abrupt sense of humor. In his expertise, this case would be a no brainer; it would be easy for him to get the charges dropped, what with all the circumstancial evidence, and the fact that there was sure to be evidence of the officer exercising unlawful force in the form of the cruiser's dash cam.

He took out his cellphone and saved the number under _Shortstack Asshole_ , before shooting him a text. _'I propose we threaten a lawsuit; let's discuss during out next meeting. Does Thursday evening work for you?'_

He waited for a response, and after a few minutes went by, his phone vibrated. _'Make it 8pm and I'll be there.'_

With that decided, Eren settled back in his chair, closing the notebook and slipping it into a desk drawer. His office phone buzzed, and Historia's voice came through, stating that his next appointment had arrived. He cracked his knuckles, ready to get the day over with. He found himself looking forward to Thursday night, even though not even an hour before he was completely against this case.

He dismissed the thought as a knock sounded at his door, and he called out for them to enter.


	5. Too Many Questions (Can't Feel My Dick)

**A/N:** _The actual title to this chapter is 'You're Asking Too Many Questions When I Can't Feel My Dick' but it doesn't fit into the allotted amount of characters :I Anyway, please enjoy!_

* * *

The rest of recording that day had been brutal. Erwin was pissed off that Levi had been late returning to the studio after his "errands", and was even more so irked that he wasn't privy to whatever they were. So true to his slave-driving nature, he kept making them take things from the top over and over again, until Levi felt like his vocal cords were raw and bleeding. He even made them stay until 2 in the morning, announcing that he was finally satisfied by the production of the songs. Hange had to have a death grip on the lead singer to prevent him from shoving his foot so far up Shitbrow's ass he could taste the leather of his boots. On their way to the car, he kept muttering under his breath about Eyebrow's blatant disregard for their hectic schedule tomorrow; they had to be up in four hours to head into a photoshoot for a magazine interview. Not to mention every single other interview they had to attend the following day. There would be countless costume changes, makeup applied and removed only to be redone; Levi's skin already ached at the thought.

Did Levi mention how fucking idiotic he was to agree to meet with Eren tomorrow evening? He already felt like he was going to die. The lack of sleep was going to make him an even bigger asshole than normal, and reduce his already flimsy brain-to-mouth filter; the caffeine in his tea might not suit his needs, but he wouldn't touch coffee or, god forbid, energy drinks. He may have been looking forward to meeting with the lawyer, for a number of reasons, but he almost regretted agreeing so readily. Unfortunately, he needed those charges dropped as soon as possible, so he really couldn't afford to sit on it. Levi blew a big fat metaphorical goodbye kiss to his precious sleep.

By the time the bandmates got home from the studio, they were both dragging their feet heavily. The raven-haired male wanted to positively drop, and never move again, but he had never gotten to fill Hange in on the day's consultation. He could practically _feel_ the curiosity rolling off of her, and was secretly impressed that she hadn't started questioning him the moment they slid into the car. Levi gracefully flopped onto the couch in their living room, immediately pulling his legs up and crossing them on the cushion. After Hange flicked on a lamp, she joined him, practically launching herself onto the loveseat and sprawling out wildly. She stared at him with keen chocolate irises, a wobbly smile threatening to spread out on her cheeks, but she tried her best to keep her composure and be patient.

With a sigh, he leaned his head back and gave her a hard stare. "I know you want to fucking ask, so do us both a favor and spit it out."

"How did it go!?" She blurted, not hesitating in the least when given full permission. "What was he like in person? He seemed so polite over the phone! And his voice! Talk about sexy." Hange leered at her roommate, giving a rakish chuckle. "Did you try to fuck him?"

"Okay, first; you didn't tell me you spoke to him personally! You only mentioned his little receptionist-who is revoltingly cheerful, if you must know. And secondly, _no_ I did not try to fuck him. He's straight and is dating some chick." Levi worked carefully to keep the bitterness out of his voice; all the smoking hot dudes were always straight.

"You want to fuck him though," Hange sing-songed, reaching up to poke Levi's cheek. He swatted her hand away and didn't bother trying to deny it; she was right, and he wasn't going to try and fail miserably at lying to her. "So?! How was he?"

"So _not_ fucking polite. He refused to help me, at first. Told me I was basically a waste of time but he didn't want his time to be even more of a waste by kicking me out. Tch. Fuckin' brat." Levi scowled, irritation seeping over his skin at the memory.

"HAH! I bet you pissed him off by being your cute blunt little self."

"I have a winning personality, fuck you very much," he stated with a sneer, clearly joking. He knew his attitude and way of handling people left much to be desired. Whilst most people handled others carefully and with care, he handled every interaction with all the grace of a drunk horse with a bucket on its head trying to compete in a rodeo. Very, very poorly, but comically enough that Hange always laughed her ass off.

"Sooooo. You said 'at first'. How did you convince him? Did you suck his dick!?" She squealed with excitement, sitting up and shoving her face up close to his, manic grin on her lips and eyes wild. "Lemme smell your breath to check."

Levi groaned, using both hands to shove her face away. "You are so fucking disgusting I could hurl. _I did not suck his fucking dick, even if I really wanted to._ Nothing even remotely sexual happened. Jesus Christ, were you _raised_ in a gutter?"

"Leeeeeviiiiii," the woman whined, her voice rising high and falling into a nasally tone. "Tell me! Tell me, tell me, _tell me!_ "

"Settle the fuck down, bitch, holy fuck." He gripped onto her shoulders to stop her from bouncing around. "I saw a picture of his family, with his little sister wearing our first shirt. So I mentioned who I was, and I found out that the little shit is also a fan. Instead of outright offering to help after that, though, he blackmailed me into bribing him with VIP tickets."

"NO FUCKING WAY!" Hange screamed, curling in on herself as a laughing fit overtook her. "Holy fuck, I love him already." She leaned into Levi, holding her stomach and trying to calm down, giggling every now and then. "I bet you absolutely adore his ass."

"Yeah, he's a real fuckin' peach. Such a sweet kid," he cooed mockingly with a sneer. "At least he has balls and dishes back out the shit he's served. I was pretty fucking impressed."

Hange smiled widely, her head resting on her roommate's shoulder. "I want to meet him."

"You'll get to, if he comes to our next concert. Think you can snag some tickets from Eyebrows without him noticing? Can't have him trying to shove his fingers into all the pies before my charges are dropped. I kind of like living." He rested his cheek atop the crown of her head, fighting a yawn as his eyes drifted shut.

"You got it, grumpy. I'm your girl," she trailed off on her own obnoxious yawn, blindly dragging the throw blanket off the back of the couch to cover them with. "Alarm set?" she mumbled, already half-asleep with her glasses askew on her face.

Levi merely grunted in confirmation, using the last of his energy to set her glasses on the end table and turn off the lamp. They were both out within minutes, curled into each other on the couch, with her soft snores and his quiet breathing intermingling.

* * *

Music plays quietly, giving the office a much more comfortable feel; Eren is leaning over his desk, packing up the work that he needs to bring home into his briefcase. He hums along softly to the catchy tune, his head bobbing slightly as he shuffles a stack of papers before laying them inside the bound leather. A knock at his door startles him out of his thoughts, and he pauses in his actions, looking up at the wood with a confused frown. The firm has been closed for over an hour now, and all of his employees should have already headed out for the day. After a moment's hesitation, he calls out that the door is unlocked, and that they can let themselves in.

The soft _click_ of the latch sounds as the handle is turned, and the door opens to reveal Annie. Her platinum blonde hair is done up in intricate little braids, pulled back into a bun, and her fringe hangs over one icy blue eye. She's wearing a very modest sundress, the white cotton laying nicely, without hugging her frame too tightly. Her father would probably keel over if she ever wore anything too revealing, and really, she herself wasn't the type to like that sort of thing. Where Eren differed from his parents' conservative views and beliefs greatly, Annie was very much like-minded with them and her own parents. She was an extremely devout Christian, her belief in God never once wavering, and she never had any internal struggles when it came to obeying her parents.

"Annie, I didn't expect to see you tonight," Eren said, finding his voice shortly after the surprise at seeing her fled his body. He gave her a small smile, rounding his desk so that they were closer.

"Well, it's been a while since we've been able to see one another, and I've missed you." She returned his smile, although hers was much more subtle and demure, and her eyes were cast below his face.

He had to suppress the urge to sigh or roll his eyes. Her parents' teachings were very much ingrained into her, so much so that sometimes he wanted to shake sense into her. _'We're equals, Annie. You can looking me in the fucking eyes,'_ he wanted to say. Instead, he held his tongue.

"I'm glad you stopped by. I haven't been able to get ahold of you, and I wanted to tell you in person rather than over voicemail. My mom and dad want to have us over for dinner this Saturday. Is your schedule open?" He shut his briefcase after making sure he had everything, locking all the paperwork safely inside.

She gave a small hum. "I'll be sure it's cleared. I'd love to see Carla and Grisha outside of church. Speaking of, Eren; you haven't come the last few Sundays..." Annie trailed off, a frown curling her lips down slightly, her tone sounding disapproving.

"I do apologize for that; work has been taking up a lot of my time lately. The influx I've had of clients recently has been a little hard to balance. I'll get it sorted out soon enough," he responded, trying to sound as contrite as possible. He really didn't care all that much if he missed a few days, even though everyone else disapproved. He'd have to be careful and continue to attend regularly, or else his parents would be disappointed. He was sure that Reverend Leonhart would be pissed off and either try and sever their relationship, or get his parents to be more strict with him.

"Be sure that you do; there is always time for God." Her tone suggested that she didn't approve in the least of his excuse, and it made sense why. She was a beloved, high profile actress and was consistently busy, but she never once missed a single Sunday service.

Eren rubbed at his left eye, trying to blink away the dryness. He huffed in minor annoyance; after he'd taken the contact out to appease Levi, it had been bothering him on and off for the rest of the day. Making a mental note to start carrying a bottle of solution around with him, he picked up his briefcase in one hand and walked over to Annie, offering his free hand to her.

Giving an apologetic smile when she reached out and twined their fingers together, he led them over to the door and walked out with her. "I promise you'll be seeing me at Sunday service as soon as I get a handle on everything."

Humming her approval, she tightened her grasp on his hand and walked gracefully at his side, keeping a respectful distance between the two of them. Once exiting through the front doors, Eren pulled them carefully to a stop, set his briefcase on the ground, and locked up the office. He picked the leather case back up and dutifully escorted Annie to her car.

She turned to face him, giving him her barely-there smile, and tilted her chin up slightly. "I'll see you Saturday."

Leaning down, Eren placed a brief, chaste kiss to the corner of her lips, giving her slender fingers a soft squeeze. "I'll pick you up around seven."

"I can't wait," Annie responded, releasing their handlock and turning to unlock her car. After she climbed inside and started the vehicle, Eren stepped back to let her back out, watching her pull out of the lot and head down the street.

Feeling oddly drained from the interaction, the brunet signed heavily and trudged over to his car. He slipped in, tossing his briefcase into the passenger seat and surely shaking up its contents. Eren leaned his head against the steering wheel and closed his eyes, taking slow, deep breaths. He found himself dreading Saturday just as much as he wasn't looking forward to rearranging his Sunday schedule to make it to church in order to appease both his girlfriend and parents. There was far too much on his plate, but he was nothing if not determined not to be a disappointment. Just as he'd always done, he would continue to be the perfect son and an upstanding member of the community. Maybe he'd have to start working well into the evenings in order to attend Sunday services. Whatever needed to be done, he would do.

With that resolved, he lifted his head up and opened his eyes, starting his car, and making his own way home. All he wanted right now was to curl up in bed and relax. His desire was strong enough to make him drive that much faster just to make it home even a few moments sooner.

* * *

It's six-fucking-thirty in the god forsaken morning, and Levi wants nothing more than to kill himself. At least death would embrace him with eternal sleep. He's currently nursing the biggest cup of tea in existence, glowering mutinously at anyone who dares stare too long or get too close. The short man is absolutely fuming and cursing Eyebrows out in his head with as many colorful and creative expletives as he can come up with while lacking a fully functioning brain. They mostly consist of _shit, fuck,_ and a variety of objects his manager could shove up his ass in replacement of the stick he's got jammed up there, that perhaps might make him all the more pleasant and much less of an absolute slave-driver.

Hange is slouching heavily in her chair, moaning and whining about how fucking tired she is; his bandmate wails her misery as a makeup artist tries to coax her into sitting up. The artist is fluttering about uselessly, trying to be consoling, and also looking increasingly frustrated. If he were in a better mood—or better yet, a decent fucking human being—he'd take pity on the poor stylist and snap at Hange to behave like the 28 year old that she is rather than her fucking shoe size. Unfortunately for the makeup artist, Levi is anything but a decent human being, and he's getting a sick joy out of watching her struggle with his roommate, his mood improving only slightly at her frustrations.

His own artist is putting the finishing touches on his smoked-out liner, while the hairstylist is straightening his inky hair and arranging it in an artful mess. Why the fuck he needs to wear _eye makeup_ when he's only going to cover them in leather straps is fucking lost on him, but he really doesn't fucking feel like conversing with the idiots working on him in order to figure it out, let alone his dickhole of a manager. The makeup artist accidentally jabs his cheek with her obscenely long nail, and he levels her with his most hateful, intimidating deathglare, willing her to spontaneously combust on the spot. She visibly shrinks back and into herself, sputtering out apologies and tripping over her tongue in an effort to get them out. He almost wishes that he could reduce her to an inconsolable crying mess, wanting nothing more than for her to piss herself in fear for his amusement.

Unluckily for him, Erwin is her saving grace; the blond giant steps into view, carrying a small case in his hands. He places it on Levi's crossed legs, giving the shorter man his most chilling, threatening smile that doesn't reach his eyes. The raven-haired male glances down at the small package, his expression bored and unaffected by the intimidating man. He scrutinizes it, before flicking his gaze back up to his manager, raising a questioning brow.

"L, these are contacts. You need to put them in, because the photographer wants one of your eyes artfully exposed for the magazine spread. H will have the opposite eye exposed, and M will have his fully covered. Am I understood?" The thinly veiled danger in his tone of voice was palpable, and Levi merely shrugged in acknowledgement.

"Whatever; like I fucking give a flying shit." Waving a hand dismissively in the air, he shooed the two stylists that were assigned to him before carefully opening the case. He frowned when he saw that the contacts were pitch black scleras. He absolutely _loathed_ these particular types of contacts; they were a bitch to put in and they were highly uncomfortable.

With a long-suffering sigh, he flipped off Erwin before gazing into his vanity mirror and proceeding to painstakingly work the black disc into his eye. It took several long minutes and an abundance of contact solution, but he finally widened his lids enough to shove the damn lense into his right eye. Blinking furiously, he tilted his head back to stop his eye from running and ruining his makeup,not out of consideration for the artist, fuck no, but just so he wouldn't have to endure any more of the fucking shit being smeared on his face. Once the excess moisture was gone, he dropped his head back down and studied his reflection in the mirror with a frown. He didn't look bad at all; they'd done a pretty okay job, and the sclera added a whole knew layer of creepy.

His roommate had more success with hers; she got it into her eye relatively easily within just a few minutes, and was over at his side before he could even blink, leaning in close to his face. Her sclera was white as snow and stood out starkly against her creamy skin. He hated to admit it, even to himself, but the photographer really knew what he was talking about. Their spread was going to be striking, and he knew that their exposed eyes were going to contrast beautifully to draw in attention.

"Time to get into costume, little grumpy," Hange cooed, drawing him out of his thoughts, and he bared his teeth in an ugly sneer.

"Weren't you just bitching and moaning about being tired? Why're you so fucking cheery now, shitty glasses?" He quirked a brow at her, cocking his head back cockily as he crossed his arms. She certainly changed her tune fast enough in true manic fashion.

"Because Erwin threatened that the next time he treats everyone to dinner, I will be forced to run laps until everyone is finished eating and be forced to miss out on delicious food if I didn't stop," was her answer, said equally as cheerfully as her previous statement. He rolled his eyes; of _course_ Hange wouldn't want to miss out on free food.

Sliding out of his chair, Levi headed over to the racks of clothing with his bandmate, Miche joining them shortly after. The three of them stood near one another as several stylists rushed around them like headless chickens, holding up outfit after outfit and bickering back and forth. One of the men was comparing a set of leather straps to ones made of PVC; he kept bringing them close to Levi's face, gauging the way they'd look against his skin. The stylist finally settled on the polyvinyl set, yelling to his coworkers the material they needed to incorporate into his outfit.

Levi was shoved into a pair of tight black pants that reflected the light and hugged every curve and dip in his flesh, showcasing his ass. Polyvinyl chloride was one of _the_ most uncomfortable materials to be encased in, sitting just below latex and right above tweed. Any article of clothing composed of PVC was entirely too tight, always making his skin scream in suffocation, not to fucking mention that it held his genitals in a crushing vice-like grip. He clenched his jaw, ignoring the painful squeeze of the PVC pants, refusing to voice any complaints based on pride alone. The army of stylists clad his chest in a variety of harnesses and straps, draping a leather jacket over his shoulders. He stepped into a pair of knee-high platformed combat boots, allowing one of the stylists to lace them up tightly while he pulled fingerless gloves with brass knuckles onto his hands. Another stylist was working to secure the PVC blindfold and straps to his face, making sure that just enough of his right eye was exposed.

Where his outfit was entirely black and made of hideously uncomfortable material, Hange was forced into an all-white get up made of velvet and silk. Unlike him, she was completely comfortable in PVC, latex, and tight leather; however, the texture of velvet made her skin crawl. His roommate looked like she was torn between clawing her own skin off or shredding the fabric up into unusable tatters, revolted shudders rolling through her body. Hange was barely managing to keep her composure, the silken blindfold wound around her face artfully masking the majority of her discomfort. They had her dressed in a cropped velvet jacket, silk bralette, and high-waisted shorts that matched the jacket. Thigh high socks sat snugly on her legs, and heeled ankle boots completed her look.

Miche wore varying shades of grey, giving No Name an entirely monochromatic color scheme, which in all reality suited them just fine. He was the only one wearing a suit, although they had skipped a dress shirt altogether and left the jacket unbuttoned, exposing his muscular chest. One of the stylists draped an excessively long tie over his neck after wrapping it carefully over his eyes to keep them hidden from view. A makeup artist was busying herself with slathering baby oil over his muscles so that the lights would catch and reflect off of his torso and make his taut musculature glisten. Levi suppressed the urge to roll his eyes so far back in his head that they got stuck; the fangirls were certainly going to drool over the issue of this magazine.

After all three of them were fully dressed and accessorized, they were called out by the photographer to begin the shoot. They moved in unison to stand in front of the backdrop whilst orders were barked out about their positioning. Levi was pretty fucking sure that his dick was rapidly losing circulation, and his nuts felt like they were forcefully receding back into his body. If someone were to ask him to sing one of his songs right now, he was so fucking certain that his voice would rise to impossible octaves and he'd sound like a little choirboy whose balls had yet to drop. He grit his teeth and ignored the extremely unpleasant sensation, focusing as hard as he could on the shouted commands and praise, trying to move as fluidly and gracefully as possible. If one of his nuts popped the way they felt like they were threatening to, he swore on his fucking life that he'd wring the necks of every single shitty stylist, and then go back in time to beat the shit out of the inventor of PVC. Posing effortlessly with mistakes few and far between, the shoot was over in the blink of an eye; Levi had been so consumed in the directions and moving his body that he'd been able to forget how tired he was—even momentarily forgetting the chaffing and constricted pains of his cock. With the photoshoot called to an end, his exhaustion hit him all at once, and he felt his knees wobble from the heaviness of his body. With a muffled groan, he strode over to a plush couch wear a few more natural pictures would be taken whilst the band talked with the interviewer. His dick was alarmingly numb now, and he kept shifting as subtly as possible to try and relieve his balls, as well as in hopes to bring feeling back into his poor fucking cock. Male anatomy was not fucking meant to be shoved into this dreaded material like a goddamned sausage casing. The woman who would be fielding questions their way offered the three of them a smile, and without hesitation began shooting them off in rapid succession, taking diligent notes the entire time. He was having a hard time focusing, and he was pretty sure all of his shifting was rubbing his dick painfully raw.

For the millionth time that day, Levi wanted to paint the walls with his own brain matter.

* * *

 _"—a warm welcome to '_ No Name' _!"_

Eren's head snapped up from his paperwork, his eyes focusing on the small television in his office. He'd turned it on for background noise to help him focus, but the host's voice announcing Levi's band, followed by raucous cheering made him rise up from his chair, completely forgetting his work. He blindly snagged the remote, pointing it at the screen and turning the volume up, his eyes focused on the three figures walking confidently out onto the set. The studio audience only seemed to scream louder at their appearance, voices and applause melding together into an amalgamation of indecipherable noise. He watched as Levi turned his blindfolded face towards the noise, the barest sliver of an eye peeking through the bandages, and gave a sexy smirk to the camera. The crowd absolutely lost it, women and teens wailing at the tops of their lungs and making Eren wince. The band sat down on a white couch together. Levi crossed an ankle over his knee, reclining leisurely in just the same manner that he had in Eren's own office just yesterday, his arm draping over the back casually.

H—who he was now assuming was that Hange woman who Levi had mentioned and he'd spoken with to set up the consultation—sat in the middle, bringing her feet up to rest on the glas coffee table in front of them, her ankles crossing as she nestled back into the cushions, a huge grin splitting her face. M, who was still an unknown to the lawyer, took the very end, his knees spread apart with one arm loosely resting against a thigh, the other thrown on top of the arm of the couch. All three of them seemed to posses that easy confidence and seemed almost extraordinarily _not_ human, far too perfect in their leisurely postures to be seen as anything but the androgynous sex gods that they were.

The studio audience was still going wild, louder than ever, completely ignoring the host's attempts to calm them and get them to quiet down. Eren watched as Levi brought a pale finger up to his pouty lips, one corner pulling up in that deviously seductive smirk—and jerked back in shock as miraculously silence immediately fell over the crowd. Once he was sure that they would remain quiet, he dropped his hand back to wear it had previously rested on his bent knee, and turned his attention politely onto the host.

The man chuckled slightly, looking into the camera with an unnerved smile. _"Well, that was certainly the warm welcome that No Name deserved. We were lucky enough to fill this week's celebrity spot with the hottest band. L, H, M; thank you for taking time out of your hectic schedules for this live interview."_

 _"Oh, it's not a problem at all! We love doing this kind of thing,"_ H singsonged, bouncing slightly in her seat. _"It's good to be here; I've heard that getting a spot on this show is highly coveted—and extremely hard to manage."_

M hummed his agreement, tilting his head towards the host. _"Really, we should be thanking you for extending such a gracious invitation."_

A few women in the audience squealed when he spoke, quickly hushing themselves up when Levi's head twitched in their direction. He still had yet to speak, seeming in no rush to draw attention to himself.

Eren was rather unfamiliar with whatever show this was, not recognizing the host. His eyes were too busy studying the members of No Name to really focus on the man; all three of them were dressed in smart suits, with their faces wrapped up in concealing bandages. Each had slivers of their eyes exposed, in order for them to see where the fuck they were going, he assumed. Eren squinted when the camera panned closer to Levi's face, unable to make out his silver iris beneath the wraps. Either the stylists had done them well enough to conceal it, or he was wearing some form of contacts to keep them hidden.

His attention was drawn back to the host when he began asking questions, visibly perking up as he sat down in his chair, absorbed in the show.

 _"We've heard rumors about a new album; can you confirm these rumors?"_

Finally, Levi parted his lips to speak, his voice velvet-smooth and rolling off his tongue in such an illegally seductive manner that Eren was completely drawn in. _"Actually, we can. We just wrapped up recording the last song just yesterday. Expect a full release of the EP next week, when we hold our first concert of our upcoming tour."_

 _"That's news to us! Is this your official announcement of a tour?"_ The host asked, surprise coloring his voice.

Here, H piped in excitedly, leaning forward with her ponytail swaying as she spoke. _"We really kept it under wraps! It's a celebratory tour for releasing our 6th album. It's only a small one; we'll be hitting a few major cities at huge venues! Consider this our official announcement! Tickets, dates, and locations will go live on our website at the conclusion of this interview!"_

The crowd cheered at the announcement, excitement seeming to seep through the television it was so palpable from the studio audience.

 _"Of course, we won't be leaving out any of our fans, whether they're able to catch this show or not. We're releasing posts all across our social media accounts right at this moment to inform all of our fans of the ticket drop."_ M added thoughtfully, his voice low and throaty as he addressed both the camera and the host.

 _"You heard it here, first, folks!"_ The host announced. _"I don't doubt you'll sell out fast after the show ends."_

 _"You'd be correct to assume that; our fans are very dedicated!"_ H announced, grinning at the crowd.

After the audience settled down once more, the host shuffled his notecards and cleared his throat. _"Many of your fans are dying to know; L, about your sexuality, can you explain when and how you realised you weren't straight? And can you offer up any advice to our viewers and your fans that may be in the closet?"_

Levi turned fully to face the camera, his lips drawing down into a thoughtful frown. _"Well, the realisation of my bisexuality probably came about by the fact that I popped hard ons over both women_ and _men. I had some pretty hot and heavy makeout sessions in high school with both genders. It all kind of fell into place after that. As for advice,"_ he paused here, running his thumb along his bottom lip and giving a little hum. He dropped his hand as he leaned forward, taking on a serious demeanor.

 _"I want all of you out there to know, no matter who you are, what your sexuality is, you are_ never _alone. You shouldn't feel pressured to come out of the closet if you aren't ready, and promise me that if you ever feel like coming out would be a danger to your safety and well-being because of your environment or surroundings—_ don't _do it. I want you to stay safe. When I came out, it was in a much less accepting time; there are still people out there who are completely set in their ways, and it can still be dangerous. I don't regret being open with my sexuality, but I do wish I'd waited until I was in a safer place. I've had a lot of hate and discrimination, been in many dangerous situations, all because of who I love. Each and every one of you is important; you're never alone, and H, M, and I care about you all."_

H latched onto Levi, squeezing him tightly as she spoke up. _"But don't hesitate to confide into those you trust; everyone needs someone who can support them and be there for them in times of need. L and I grew up together, and I'd kick anyone's ass who dared to try and cause him harm. There are people that love you no matter what, for exactly who you are. You can rely on them."_

The host looked on the two of them with a soft smile, and the audience clapped loudly, yelling _'thank you'_ s and _'I love you'_ s over one another. Eren felt a pang in his chest; he really wished he was surrounded by more accepting and supportive people. Sure, his college friends were much more open-minded, but having ultra-conservative parents and having to attend a pious church really weighed on him. He shared the same views as his friends, but could never voice them around his parents without fear of angering them or earning their disappointment.

The interview was far from over, but Eren turned the television off, gazing down at his wrist-watch to check the time. He had an appointment with a client soon, and a meeting with Armin to discuss the Kirchstein divorce case before 8 o'clock rolled around. He sighed, dry-washing his face and mentally shaking himself.

Only 4 hours to go, and Levi would once again be back in his office to go over his case. Eren wasn't sure if he was looking forward to the encounter—or dreading it.


End file.
